Missing Persons
by the original killerpineapple
Summary: SS/DM Sequel to Surviving Redemption.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Draco's mind eventually shuts down. He's too tired to think any more, too tired to play the same ugly scenes in his head for what must be the hundredth time. He doesn't want to think about what Severus has done, what his father might have done. He doesn't want to feel the burn of magic flooding his veins or see the accusing glare of blood in Lucius' hair. So he shuts it all out, and concentrates instead on the low, smoky clouds. The setting sun lights the overcast sky from below with an amber glow, and spills its molten drops into the river. The rain drums against the hotel room window and runs in floods across the pavements. It casts ripples in the surface of the water and gently rocks the boats tethered to the side.

The sound of the shower in the next room stops. The door opens and a light is flicked on. Draco sees his reflection in the window, and Severus standing with a towel around his waist and his damp hair tied back. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, then closes the curtains.

"Why are you standing in the dark? Draco?"

Draco sits on the edge of the bed, his back to Severus, and starts to untie his shoe laces. Severus sighs and kneels on the bed behind him. He puts his hand on Draco's shoulder, and Draco shrugs it off.

"You can't just not speak to me." Severus' voice is weary. He doesn't know how much longer he can stay calm. He knows it's all his fault, but his patience with the boy is beginning to wear thin. He feels it fraying, like fragile silk. Draco slips his shoes off and then sits still, his elegant hands crossed in his lap. "Draco, I don't know what else I can do. If I could take everything back I would, but I can't."

"I know." He speaks quietly, but it's the first he's spoken at all in days, and Severus feels a small spark of hope.

"Just tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it."

They're both silent for a moment, before Draco turns to face Severus. His grey eyes are guarded. "I want things to be different this time. No more lies, no more secrets. And you need to control your temper. You can't-" His voice breaks and he turns away. "I don't want you to hurt me again."

There's a sharp stab of guilt in Severus' chest. There are still bruises on Draco's wrists, and one on his ribs where his wand dug in. There's still a bruise on his face.

Severus' palm stings.

He reaches out and takes hold of Draco's jaw, turning his head to face him. Draco stops himself from pulling away.

"It _will_ be different. Okay?"

Draco doesn't say anything. He knows Severus is trying, but he needs more than that. He needs Severus to understand how much he trusted him, how vulnerable he allowed himself to be. He needs him to understand exactly what it is he's abused and broken.

"Lie down."

Severus' brow creases as he draws his eyebrows together. "Draco?"

"Lie down."

He does, hesitantly. His hands clench and unclench, moving from his sides to rest on his stomach, then back to his sides again, unsure of what to do. Draco just looks at him for a moment, then reaches to remove Severus' towel. Severus instinctively grips it, then Draco's fingers brush his and he relinquishes his hold, raising his hips to help Draco slide the material from underneath him.

Apart from his shoes, Draco is fully dressed.

He straddles Severus' hips, and Severus gasps at the sudden friction. He runs his fingers over Severus' chest, which rises and falls in slow, deep waves, and he can almost forget. He leans towards the edge of the bed – another gasp – and, after some rummaging, pulls a tie from the trunk on the floor. He holds Severus' gaze, and Severus sees that his eyes are softer now, more blue than grey, and his teeth are worrying at his lower lip. Severus nods his consent, and raises his hands above his head.

Draco places two small kisses on his wrists and loosely ties them to the bed. He knows Severus would tie them tighter. But, then, they are two very different men. He brushes the pad of his thumb over Severus' bottom lip, before gently pressing his hand to his mouth. Draco shifts slightly, and his hand stifles the moan it elicits. Severus has been relieved of the power of speech; of the power to scream, should he need to. The power, even, to whisper a plea, and he thinks he's finally beginning to understand.

Draco glances at the light and it flickers for a few moments before going out completely, plunging the room into darkness. Severus is blind, and the only noise is the persistent tapping of rain at the window. Were it not for the weight resting on his hips and the pressure against his mouth, he could be alone.

He suddenly realises how exposed he is, how defenceless Draco could make him in their current positions, and it pains him to think that, even if he wanted to, Draco could never hurt him. And they both know it's a struggle for Severus to control his anger. They both know it's a struggle for him not to strike the boy and mark that perfect skin.

He feels the heat from Draco's body draw closer to him, and the scratch of linen against his bare skin. A cold, hard circle he assumes to be a button; Draco's hair against his cheek, warm breath against his ear.

"Legilimens."

Something pushes into his mind, and he panics and hurriedly blocks it. It's insistent, and gentle. It calmly exerts pressure, fades away, comes back. It's like the ebb of the tide. It's like Draco's mouth, his tongue, his fingertips.

Severus breathes deeply through his nose, and lets his guard drop.

Draco immerses himself, staying shallow enough to see the distorted light dancing on the surface. Thoughts drift over him, voices, memories. He stays away from the murky depths. He'd never intended to go far, but even this is too much. He pulls back.

He surfaces, and rests his head against Severus' shoulder. He removes his hand from his mouth and unties his hands. Severus wraps his arms around him and manoeuvres them until they're on their sides facing one another. He places his hand on Draco's cheek, and Draco covers it with his own.

After a while, Severus undresses Draco, and they both crawl under the sheets, curl around one another. They fall asleep, and for the first time, they are equals.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1 – two years later

Draco's slender hand moves lightly over the sheet of paper, careful not to smudge the pencil and ruin the sketch he's been working on for the past hour and a half, a sketch born from months of scrupulous and painstakingly thorough research. It will be the first of many, but Draco is a perfectionist, and even early mistakes are best avoided. Early mistakes knock the whole procedure off kilter, and threaten discord in a company in which harmony has come to depend on Draco getting his way.

It's beginning to get dark outside. The shadows lengthen as the late autumn sun dips low in a sky heavy with clouds the colour of lead on pale fingers. The street lights blink a few times, and then start to emit a steady, dim glow. The trees begin to sway in the wind, which brings with it a storm of dry, orange leaves, browning at the edges.

Draco's head remains bowed as he works in the pool of light spilling from his desk lamp.

He hears faint footsteps in the corridor about thirty seconds before the door to his office swings open. Draco turns his head and hides a grimace as he sees Jason Walker leaning against the doorframe, his mouth curling upwards in a cocky smile he undoubtedly thinks is charming.

"Hey man, can I come in?" He's already closing the door behind him. Draco forces himself to smile apologetically.

"I'm actually quite busy right now."

"Yeah, I heard they put you in charge of the winter collection." There's a hint of resentment in his voice, which gives Draco a childish thrill. The proud little monster inside him stores it away for later enjoyment. It can feel the envy radiating from the arrogant little prick in the expensive suit, and it giggles quietly to itself.

Draco knows that Jason wants his job, wants it so much that he's willing to grovel and manipulate and betray. Wants it so much that Draco knows to watch his back.

Draco also knows that that's not all Jason Walker wants from him.

Jason perches on the edge of Draco's desk. One long leg dangles over the edge, and he places his other foot on Draco's chair, the side of his shoe pressing casually against Draco's thigh. He runs a hand through his short, dark hair and flashes that smile again, all straight white teeth and insincerity. Draco doesn't say anything, just looks at him with an expression he hopes is mild and resists the urge to cover his work with his arm, like a schoolboy.

"Well, congratulations. You deserve it."

_I know I do_, Draco thinks. His references and qualifications may have been faked, but his work over the past two years hasn't been, and he knows he shows more promise than anyone else in the business.

"Although I still don't know why you decided to be a designer. You know, you could be a model."

Draco laughs shortly, and Jamie mistakes his disdain for the tacky chat-up line as self-deprecation. He uses the foot on Draco's chair to swing him round so they're facing one another.

"Seriously! I mean, I don't know if you realise, but you're hot!"

Draco raises an eyebrow, a sardonic smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I know I am. But I don't want to be a model."

Jamie looks surprised for a moment, presumably expecting some attempt at fake modesty, before his smile resurfaces.

"You should at least give it a go. I mean, look at you! Can you imagine the photos? Christ, Alex…" He gives a short, breathless laugh and lowers his voice to a near whisper, leaning a little closer. His eyes rake the length of Draco's body, and Draco feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "I know I'd want to see them."

Suddenly, Draco needs this man out of his office and as far away from him as possible. He's a little more grown up now, and feeling strangers' eyes creep over his body, hearing their honeyed voices drip transparent flatteries, makes him feel more ill than elated. He doesn't care for Jamie Walker's shark smile, with all those white teeth, or for his bright, smug blue eyes, or for the overly familiar foot pressed against his thigh. His false congratulations and the American drawl others seem to find charming, in a dashing sort of way, are starting to grate.

Jamie reaches out a strong hand to touch Draco's cheek, and Draco pulls away from him.

"Jamie, it's getting late, and I really do have a lot to do."

Jamie laughs and slides off the desk, walking behind Draco's chair. Draco stands up and turns to face him.

"You know, all work and no play…Come on, let me take you for a drink."

"I can't. I really should be getting home, anyway. Peter'll be wondering where I've gotten to."

"Oh God, Alex. You're not still dating that jerk, are you?"

Draco glares. He thinks his patience has reached its limit. Jamie sighs.

"Okay, I get it. You're with someone, and we all know what the gossip's like in this place. But, hey, I won't tell if you won't."

"What?" Draco stares at him in disbelief.

"I'm just saying, no one needs to know." He takes a step closer. Draco can smell aftershave and peppermint, and the faintest trace of the cocktail he had with lunch. His voice is a whisper again. "Come on, baby. It'll be our little secret." He places a hand on the back of Draco's neck and starts to pull him forward, and Draco has finally had enough. He's done playing nice. Without meaning to, he feels magic flood his veins, and Jamie flies the short distance to the wall and hits it with a muffled thump.

Jamie leans heavily against the wall, trying to stop himself from falling and looking slightly dazed. He hadn't felt Draco push him, but he must have, and with a force the slight man doesn't look like he has in him.

"Don't touch me."

Jamie opens his mouth to interrupt and Draco cuts him off.

"And don't call me baby. It's Alexander, and one day it'll probably be sir, but it will _never_ be baby. You think the reason I'm turning you down is that I'm worried my partner will find out?" He laughs scornfully. "Even if I were single, you wouldn't stand a chance with me, okay? Because the thought of touching you makes me feel physically sick. Now get out of my office."

Jamie isn't smiling anymore. He's managed to right himself, and has the good grace to look embarrassed.

"Okay, maybe I came on a little strong, but I don't deserve that."

Draco sneers.

"I said get out. Go find one of your sycophant interns and take him to bed, because I don't want you anywhere near me."

Jamie's nostrils flare and he straightens his jacket, shaking with indignation and anger.

"Fine." He opens the door with a flourish and slams it behind him, the noise puncturing the silence of the evening.

Draco sits back down, his hands trembling against his knees.

bdbdbd

Draco pulls into the drive, turns off the headlights and listens to the soothing hum of the engine. He closes his eyes and allows himself time to sit in his own little world and think. His heart is hammering in his chest and there's a knot of panic throbbing hotly in the pit of his stomach. He needs a few minutes to collect himself.

When he opens his eyes, he sees the charcoal smudge of a shadow crossing behind the living room curtains. The light from inside is soft and inviting, and with a deep breath he turns the key in the ignition and steps out of the car.

He hangs his coat in the small entrance and calls Severus' name. Severus appears from the kitchen. He's still wearing the plain white shirt and black trousers he wore to work that day, but he has removed his tie and pulled his hair back into a ponytail. Draco notices his bare feet and grins, feeling reassured now he's back in his own home, where he doesn't have to live the lie he and Severus concocted together, fashioning a life around themselves like a protective shell.

Severus takes in Draco's pale skin and wide eyes with the sharp perceptiveness most people find unnerving, but Draco finds comforting. "What's wrong?"

"I used magic, Sev." He whispers, not trusting his voice not to crack.

"What happened?" Severus brow has creased and his dark eyes bore into Draco's. Draco squirms beneath the intensity of that stare. Severus puts his hands on Draco's shoulders, and the weight Draco has been carrying around since he left work falls away as he realises Severus isn't angry, and that he's going to look after him.

"I don't know, really. I was at work and this guy was being a jerk, and I sort of…pushed him." Draco misreads the look on Severus' face. "I didn't hurt him or anything! And he didn't realise what was happening."

"What guy? What did he do?" Severus feels the first stirrings of anger, and warns himself not to take it out on Draco. For the past two years he has kept his promise not to hit him, and he has no intention of breaking that promise now.

Draco looks slightly confused. Severus seemed to have missed the point.

"Just someone I work with. He…" Draco falters, and breaks their gaze for a moment. "He tried to kiss me, and so I pushed him. I didn't mean to, it just sort of…happened."

"Is it that prick from the Christmas party? The American?"

Draco starts.

"Yes. How did you..?"

"The cocky little bastard couldn't keep his eyes off you, then he tried to follow you when you went to get our coats." He pauses. "We had words."

Draco tries for a look of indignation and disapproval, and doesn't quite manage. Secretly, he likes the jealousy. He likes when they're out together and someone looks at him, and Severus hand tightens around his waist.

"And it looks like we're going to have to have another chat."

"Severus, no. I told him in no uncertain terms where he stood with me. I don't need you to fight my battles, and certainly not if you're going to endanger my career in the process."

Severus looks away, his jaw clenched tightly. Neither of them speaks for a moment.

"What are we going to do, then?"

Severus runs a hand through Draco's hair.

"I don't think we need to worry about it."

"But you said they would be able to trace our magic."

"Yes, but I doubt they can from something so fleeting. And if they do, we'll just cross that bridge when we come to it. Besides, it's been two years, they're probably not even searching that thoroughly anymore."

Draco nods, and offers Severus a small, weary smile.

"Come here." Severus pulls Draco into a hug, moving one of his hands in circles on the small of his back. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you. You know I will."

He feels Draco nod against his chest and holds him closer, taking possession of his boy.

He knows he can trust Draco. He knows that the entire time they've been together, no other man has touched him. He knows that he is the only man Draco has ever loved. But still, the jealously unfurling inside him refuses to roll over and go back to sleep. So that night he takes Draco to bed, and he entwines their fingers together and pins his hands down. He fucks him harder than he has done in a long time, leaving bites and kisses which will be bruises by the morning.

The wind whistles outside, and the rain patters softly against the windowpane.

Severus reminds Draco who he belongs to.

bdbdbd

In the dead of night, a man with unruly dark hair and eyes the colour of jade sits bolt upright in his bed. A feeling like electricity jolts through his veins.

He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stumbles to the fireplace, where he starts to fumble with wood and matches, his wand lying forgotten on the bedside table.

He's wide awake. As the flames roar into being, he laughs aloud to himself. It's a laugh of relief and incredulity and sudden, unexpected joy.

He's found them. After two years if searching, he's finally found them.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The thick shadows of the stairwell swallow her up.

A cobweb brushes delicately against the pale column of her neck. It tickles, and she purses her lips to silently hush herself. A giggle dies in her throat.

She reaches her dancing fingers into her hair to brush away the gossamer threads, and when she pulls her hand back a spider is scuttling towards her wrist. She holds it before eyes which are bright and dark and suddenly swimming with something alive. She crushes the spider between her thumb and forefinger, and inspects the black smudge it leaves behind. Her lips curve.

Lucius feels his house change. He doesn't hear or see anything, but he knows she's here. He rubs his hand over his face, his stubble whispering against the parchment of his hands, and walks to the stairs with his back straight.

The entrance hall is cold this time of year. Give it a few weeks, and he may be able to see his breath, but that is not why he shudders. He takes a few more steps forward.

"Boo." The voice is quiet, and he jumps. He turns sharply, his attempt at dignity ruined, and looks at the woman leaning against the banister.

"Bella."

Bella smiles at him, the enigmatic, seductive smile which had once made him long to claim that mouth, and which now sends chills down his spine. Her waist is small, like her sister's was, but she has the curves Narcissa always longed for, and which never failed to lure the boys at school, though none would ever confess what they had done together. Her ebony curls are pinned back clumsily and many have sprung free to tumble around her face and down her back. Lucius can see a few strands of grey, which do nothing to detract from her sinister beauty. He tries not to look at the deep, rippling pools of her eyes, but finds himself drawn to them, and then he can see the thing the boys at school were scared of.

The attraction he feels towards her is like shame.

"You got my owl."

She smirks.

"I got your message, yes."

"I wasn't sure. The owl hasn't returned."

"Hasn't it? Must have gotten lost. Poor little birdy." Her grin is almost predatory. They both know that the owl is not lost.

Bella pushes herself away from the wall and walks toward Lucius, her heels clicking quietly on the marble floor. She stops an inch away from him and looks up. When she speaks he can feel her breath against his jaw.

"You got me out of my little box." She's swaying gently. She glances down again, and he can feel the heat of her eyes against his throat. "I assume you want something in return."

"I want Snape."

"Are you sure? I think old Big Nose ain't as purdy as me."

"He has my son. The Ministry have lost interest. They've given the case to some Griffindor kid who couldn't find a slippery bastard like Snape if his life depended on it."

Bella seems to be considering it. She absent-mindedly runs her fingers over Lucius' chest, and he feels both need and guilt wash over him.

"Please, Bella. If you bring Draco back to me, Severus is yours."

Bella grins up at him. He sees the light pink flicker of her tongue behind her teeth. She whispers her agreement, and then pulls away. She glides up the stairs, her hands tracing patterns in the air around her, and Lucius forces himself not to follow her.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm sorry this update has been a long time coming. It would seem that degrees are more time-consuming than I'd imagined.

Chapter 4 

Draco's shoes tap on the concrete of the underground car park as he strides towards the lift, casually flicking his hand over his shoulder and pressing the button on his keys. He hears the reassuring click of the doors' locks sliding into place and slips the keys back into the pocket of his tailor-made trousers. He feels a lot calmer than he did yesterday, when he spent the whole day looking over his shoulder for some faceless Ministry goon, and rushed home to Severus as early as he could. He is soothed by the regimented actions of his morning routine – the steady drum of water against the cool tile of the shower, the weather forecast relayed by the familiar voice, Severus silently helping him with his cufflinks before pressing a gentle kiss against each wrist. He needs this. He needs the solid normality of his everyday life.

Draco makes his way into his office, smiling charmingly at the staff he meets along the way, stopping once or twice to have brief conversations in near perfect italian. He's checking his emails when there's a quiet, almost reluctant knock at his door. He swivels in his chair as Jason pokes his head around the door, and manages to keep his face impassive.

"Hey, there was a guy here looking for you."

Draco rolls his eyes. There's a reason Jason never managed to make it as a PA.

"Did this guy have a name?"

Jason's lips purse and Draco can tell it's taking all of his energy to remain professional.

"He didn't say. He just turned up here after you left last night asking for you. He wanted to know where you lived and stuff. It was kinda weird."

Draco stiffens slightly, panic lancing through him, but he manages to shrug disinterestedly and twists his chair around slightly, as though itching to get back to work.

"What was so weird?"

"Well, he didn't know your name. He called you Drake, or Drew or something."

Draco lifts an eyebrow, pouring all the scorn he can muster into that single glance.

"Is it not possible, then, that he was looking for someone else? Someone called Drake, perhaps?"

Jason narrows his eyes and smiles sarcastically.

"He had a photo of you."

Draco can feel his heart beating and an uncomfortable churning in the pit of his stomach. He draws his eyebrows together for a moment, then shrugs again, running a hand through his hair.

"What did he look like?"

"Mid-twenties. Kinda short. Dark hair, green eyes, glasses. Quite good-looking, actually."

Draco pretends to think for a moment.

"Doesn't sound familiar. If he comes back, let me know." He turns to his desk and starts typing a reply to an email from one of the company's fabric suppliers.

"What, that's it? Do you not wanna know who this guy is?"

Draco sighs and swivels his chair back round.

"Not really. Now, if you don't mind, I have work to do." He turns his chair and starts to type again. Jason lingers for a few seconds, then Draco hears an irritated tut and the quiet click of the door closing. He glances quickly over his shoulder to check he's alone and then grabs the phone, almost dropping it in his haste, and punches in the number for Severus' office.

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Draco lies with his head on Severus' stomach, his eyes closed and his breathing gentle. Severus runs his long fingers through Draco's hair as he annotates one of the manuscripts he brought home from work. The only sounds in the house are the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece downstairs and the quiet hum of the heating. Even the patter of rain against the windows has ceased for the moment, and they find it very difficult to worry about the man searching for them. Not when the door is locked and their limbs are tangled and warm beneath the blankets.

Draco had been trembling by the time he'd gotten home, his imagination turning shadows into spies. Severus was already there. He pulled Draco against his chest, wrapped his arms around his slender shoulders. He told him everything would be okay. He promised to keep them safe. And when Draco had buried his face in the crook of his neck and let out a quiet sob, he took him to bed and comforted him in the best way he knows how.

The hand in Draco's hair creeps lower and rubs small circles against the back of his neck. Draco hums contentedly. He brushes his fingers through the dark hair on Severus' chest and runs the pad of his thumb across his collar bone. He props himself up on his elbow and smiles at Severus. Severus raises an eyebrow.

"Can I help you, Mr Malfoy?"

"I like you in just your glasses."

Severus smirks. "Do you, now?"

Draco pushes himself up and straddles Severus' hips. He plucks the manuscript out of Severus' hands and, very deliberately, turns the corner of the page to mark his place. Severus frowns, pointedly eyeing the bookmark on the nightstand. Draco's grey eyes glint.

"I think that's enough work for one night."

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Draco sits on the edge of the bed, elegant fingers knotting shoelaces into small, neat bows. On Fridays, he goes to a cocktail bar after work with the rest of his colleagues.

Severus drops Draco's wand onto the duvet as he passes. Draco looks at it for a moment, and it almost seems to glow. He moves his hand towards it, cautiously, and it trembles. He pulls his hand away, before taking a deep breath and grabbing it in his fist.

There's a sudden jolt, like electricity, so powerful it makes him gasp with something that is not quite pain. Then it settles into his palm, finding the creases and joints it once sat so comfortably against. It thrums gently, content and heavy and home against the faint, familiar tapestry of his skin.

Draco can feel Severus' eyes on him, and he turns to see him watching from the doorway.

"Just in case," he mutters, before turning sharply and making his way downstairs.

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The bar is unusually crowded, and Draco and his colleagues are forced into a far corner, about twenty of them crowded around two tall round tables on spindly stools which rock whenever they move. There are candles hanging in lanterns from the ceiling, and the sound of quiet jazz music occasionally manages to fight its way through the countless strands of animated conversation, only to be lost again almost immediately.

"Honestly! The nerve of the woman! 'I'm used to working with artists.'" Luca snorts derisively. "Who the hell does she think she is? Mona-fucking-lisa? All she had to do was stand still and pout!"

"To be fair, I think that's all Mona Lisa had to do too." One of the work experience girls interjects.

"Was she called Mona Lisa? I thought that was just the painting's name." Jason mumbles, slumped languidly in his chair and swilling an alarmingly green cocktail around in its glass. He's still sulking, to Draco's amusement.

"I don't know! She could have been called Rudolph the Red-Nosed fucking Reindeer for all I care." Luca continues, annoyed at being interrupted mid-rant. "The point is, I'm never working with that stuck-up bitch again. Ever. Honestly, talk about drama queen! Complete fucking diva! What are _you_ smirking at, Mr. I'm-Too-Good-To-Be-Drinking-With-The-Likes-Of-You?"

Draco laughs, and Luca can't help but grin. "Oh, nothing. Just you having the gall to accuse someone else of being a diva."

Luca's shocked face is absurd, and Draco laughs again. He catches Jason's sour expression out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm hurt, Alex. Truly, deeply hurt." He wipes away a fake tear.

"My apologies." Draco tips an imaginary hat.

"Wait a minute, are you talking about the model from yesterday? Red hair? Lip piercing?" Gina from the wardrobe department asks.

"The very same."

"Didn't you go home with her last night?" A lesser woman would wither under Luca's glare.

"Back in a minute." Draco stands before Luca can see his smirk and starts to push his way through the crowd.

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Bella stands in the doorway for a minute, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people in the bar. She hasn't been amongst so many people for a long time, and the noise and the heat and the brush of someone else's skin on hers sets her heart beating.

A man behind her snaps "Come on love, in or out," as he struggles to pass her, and that's all the encouragement she needs.

She steps in the overcrowded room and moves towards the bar, taking her time, her hands raised so that her fingertips skim expensive woollen suits and delicate silk shirts. Once, her hand grazes the back of a young woman's neck, and she softly moans at the sudden warmth against her skin.

The whole time, she does not take her eyes off the dark haired man she has followed here. He's shifting anxiously through the throng of people, scanning and dismissing faces so quickly it's almost careless. Then, from the corner of his eye, he sees what he's looking for, and cuts through the crowd with a confidence he, until a moment ago, did not look like he possessed.

Bella starts to follow him when she spots a boy standing at the bar. He looks little more than twenty, his nails tapping anxiously against the beer-soaked wood. Bella changes course.

The boy is pale, with light brown freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose, so faint they're almost not there. Strands of blond hair fall across his forehead, and as he pushes them back he runs his hands through his hair so that it tangles between his fingers. His clothes are fashionable and, judging by how well they fit, tailor made, but they look wrong on him. His shirt is starting to pull free from the waistband of his trousers, and there are scuff marks on the toes of his shoes.

Bella looks at him and smiles, the soft, enigmatic smile which now makes Lucius Malfoy want to scream, and the smile he offers in return is honest and unsure and almost painfully hopeful. He can't hold her gaze for long. He looks down to his muddied shoes, and when he looks back up his eyes are wide and trusting.

Bella takes his hand and places it on her waist, and a look of panic flits across his face. She touches his cheek, running her thumb against his lower lip, and he almost relaxes.

He is so shy.

He is so beautifully shy. So beautifully shy that it takes all of her willpower not to hurt him there and then.

By now, her reason for being in this bar has been forgotten.

She asks him if he would like to come home with her, and he agrees so quickly, so readily.

The poor boy agrees, and Bella takes him with her into the night.

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Draco is washing his hands when he feels someone watching him. His heart starts to race and a lump forms in his throat. He's left his wand in his jacket pocket, back at the table, and he doesn't want to think about how Severus would react were he to find out.

Fighting the urge to run, he turns the tap off and takes a paper towel from the dispenser on the wall, drying his hands methodically to allow himself time to calm down. He turns, and finds the brilliant green eyes which have been focussed on him for the past minute. The smile Draco offers is confident and casual and, as he knows all too well, unequivocally attractive.

The dark haired man seems relaxed and in control, but Draco sees past that. He sees a man who stands with his back poker straight and his legs slightly apart in an attempt to compensate for his height and slight frame, but doesn't know what to do with his arms, which hang awkwardly by his sides. He sees a man who has opted for contact lenses instead of the glasses Draco thinks, to his shame, he probably would have mocked were he any younger, and he sees the occasional heavy blink which betrays how much they irritate him. He sees a man who was trying to look imposing, and was perhaps succeeding, but who has been unarmed by the kind, curious look on Draco's face and the barest flash of clean, straight teeth.

"Desideri?"

The Italian startles him.

"Oh…erm…my name's Harry. Of course, you know that already." He laughs nervously, but stops at the puzzled expression on Draco's face.

"You do…? Do you remember me? We were at Hogwarts together."

"I'm sorry, you have the wrong person." Draco smiles dismissively, drops his paper towel into the bin and starts towards the door, but Harry steps into his path.

"No, I don't. You're Draco Malfoy."

"That's not my name. Excuse me."

"Stop." Harry reaches out to touch him, but as he does the door opens and his hand is knocked out of the way.

"Ooh, sorry." Jason walks into the bathroom, and sneers when he notices Draco. "Oh, it's you." He turns to Harry, and Draco manages to slip behind Jason. "Hello again. I see you found him. Although I wouldn't bother with him if I were you. Too stuck up his own ass to give you the time of day." He's had too much to drink. He stumbles and places his hand on Harry's arm to balance himself, laughing briefly. "Sorry, I must have had more than I thought. But maybe you could convince me to stay for one more."

Draco glances at Harry, who is looking aghast at Jason, and quietly slips through the door.

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Back outside, the cold night air bites as Draco struggles into his suit jacket, his scarf draped clumsily around his neck and his coat hanging over one arm. He gets his jacket on, and he feels his wand pulse warmly against his ribs. He takes it from his pocket and holds it hidden beneath his jacket, his grip so tight his nails cut into his palm. He forces himself to stay calm, telling himself it won't be long until he's home.

Severus will know what to do.

He pulls his coat on and takes a quick look around before setting off across the square, leaves and dust swirling around his ankles.

The wind is strong tonight, and the trees creak and moan against its assault. It's so loud, he doesn't hear the voice until a split second before he feels someone grasp his shoulder, and he only just has time to turn and see the wide, emerald eyes before his head starts to swim and the ground falls away.

The street Draco had been standing on is suddenly empty, and the wind continues to howl.

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Harry's shoes thump against a wooden floor and the sudden impact makes his knees buckle. He recovers, and raises his wand just as Draco's wand is raised to him. He feels dizzy and disoriented, but he stands his ground and gradually the world stops spinning. He registers the soft light of a reading lamp and the flicker of a fire glinting off a mirror and assumes Draco has brought him straight into his home.

Draco's breathing is shaky and his expression cautious. His free hand is fisted in the expensive fabric of his coat and his wand hand shakes almost imperceptibly. In an instant Harry sees that, confident though he may be in other regards, Draco has rarely, if ever, had to defend himself.

Harry knows he has the upper hand.

"Lower your wand, Draco."

Draco sets his jaw and doesn't move. Harry sighs.

"Come on, Draco. I don't want to hurt you."

Draco's hand drops slightly, and the determined glint in his eyes dims. The fluttering in Harry's stomach starts to settle.

Then he feels the point of a wand against the back of his neck.

"Stupid boy."

Snape draws closer and Harry feels the heat of his breath against his ear. He feels Snape's hand snake upwards across his torso and close around his throat.

"I have absolutely no qualms about hurting you."


End file.
